For most of my life, I’ve been an emotional eater, soothing myself with sugary, starchy, fatty foods. I’m highly sensitive, which means I feel everything – both the good and the bad – intensely. Living at 120 watts can feel vibrant and alive.
It can also feel scary. Strong emotions are often uncomfortable, so I try to protect myself by pushing away my emotional experience rather than feeling it. Food comes in very handy here.
I talk with many, many other highly sensitive women who also use food as a buffer. In this case, overeating is an example of fight or flight. When life gets too vulnerable to bear – when it gets painful and stressful and hard – we flee into food. This attempt to care for ourselves is not something to use as ammunition against our own hearts, something about which to judge ourselves.
Emotional eating is based in kindness – it’s natural (and normal!) to want pleasure, to try and soothe a hurt, and to want to feel good – especially if you’re feeling so much all of the time. We eat not because we hate ourselves, but because we’re hurting, and we want to make it go away. Food is a fabulous buffer – we can make the most excruciating pain subside, oh, for about 10 minutes.
And yet…we all know it doesn’t last, and it won’t work. The pain returns, so we keep eating in an attempt to feel better. The suffering proliferates. Now we have the original pain plus the pain of overeating: the guilt, shame, and feeling of deficiency – what’s wrong with me? Ouch. Ouch.
We eat because the converse – caring for our hurts without food – sounds really, really scary.
There is something so tender, so beautiful, so courageous about caring for our emotions; gentling ourselves so that we can meet life’s pain head on. I know this asks much of us. Instead of running into food we run right to the hurt – the tender, aching place – and we bandage it with compassion.
To those of you who think “I couldn’t do that,” this is what I would say: you are stronger than you know. We think the hurt will overwhelm us. We’re afraid the pain will overcome us.
But our hearts are so much bigger. Oh, brave, brave warrior: you are strong enough to feel your pain.
The only way that I’ve found peace with food – and trust me, I’ve tried everything! – is to stop running from my pain and to sit with it. I sit with it by feeling the ouch, caring for it, and offering myself compassion. Amazingly, this changes everything. The hurts soften in my care. They move. They flow. The cravings flow, too. The pain doesn’t last. It never does.
This astonishes me over and over again.
But more than that, I am changed. Whenever I offer myself kindness, I come back home. I build a sanctuary that I can return to, again and again and again. My safety doesn’t rest in the shifting winds of my emotions – or my life experience – but in the surety of my own heart. I trust. I find peace.
This astonishes me too.
Earlier this week, I was standing in my kitchen, perusing my pantry for a treat – okay I was dying for a treat – and drooling over my homemade granola bars. You know that I stay clear of sugar – an addictive food for me. So you may be surprised by my insistent thoughts about why I should shove one (or four) in my mouth. Here’s a sample:
“They’re honey sweetened. There’s not that much sugar in them. This would taste sooooo good. You’ve had an exhausting few weeks; you deserve this. You can stop eating sugar again tomorrow. Your self worth is not dependent on what you eat; go easy on yourself. And my favorite – There’s probably less sugar in these than in a banana!
I was trying really, really hard to justify why I could eat the granola bars, when I know full well that sugar is not my friend. I really wanted to eat the damn things!
But…. I paused.
I stopped rooting through the pantry, closed the door, and looked within. I asked myself, “Oh, sweetheart. What’s really going on?” I realized that what I really needed wasn’t food, but a good cry. And a nap. My husband and I had just moved our family 1700 miles across the country – yep, U-Haul, pets in the crates, huge garage sale, driving for four days, the minivan and all – from Montana to Austin. We arrived in what felt like a completely different world, in record 110 degree heat, in a huge, huge transition.
In short, I was feeling completely discombobulated, exhausted, and extremely uncomfortable. I had gotten lost every single one of the 6 days we’d been in Austin so far; I was rushed to get my kids registered for school; my house was in turmoil – boxes EVERYwhere – and my daily routines – everything that felt normal and comfortable – were gone.
Here’s where it gets really interesting. When I looked inside and felt all this discomfort – the ouch of moving and starting over – I noticed how much I was judging myself for it. The pain itself wasn’t so bad, but my judgment of it – you shouldn’t be so upset, this shouldn’t bother you; you should go with the flow; this isn’t that big of a deal; you should be handling this better (do you hear all the shoulds?) were what made me feel so inside out.
So I’d wanted to eat my way out of this pain. Hence my granola bar wrestling match.
Instead, I fetched a box of tissues, shut the bedroom door and let myself grieve for all I’d lost in the move (oh, how I missed my walks in the Montana quiet!) and all that felt familiar. I let myself feel all my feelings instead of running from them, judging them or telling myself I shouldn’t feel that way. I rubbed my arms and even gave myself a hug and told myself over and over, “I know, I know sweetheart. It’s so uncomfortable right now!” And then, “You can do this.”
I cried and napped and woke up feeling better. The relief came from dropping my self judgment; stopping the war about feeling scared, lost, sad, anxious and uncomfortable. I just let them be. And stopped the war.
I didn’t need to eat to care for my feelings anymore. I dropped the fork, too. (Or in my case, the granola bar.)
Then I wept because it was so beautiful.
So, my beloved, this is what I’m inviting you to try – just try it, just once – to feel life’s ouches without the food buffer. It takes a brave heart – which we all have – and a willingness to sit in the hot seat – which we all can do. I think you’ll be surprised at what you find.
The bogeyman at the door – our emotions – is a princess in disguise, as Rilke wrote. It’s something “precious that wants our love.” Oh beloved, love it. Love your tender humanity. Care for your hurts. Feel your feelings and let them flow. They aren’t the monster we fear they’re going to be.
Trust, dear one. Trust that your heart is big enough; trust that it can care for whatever strong emotion ails you. Trust that you are enough. And let me know what you find, when you open your heart and stand with the door wide open.
Everything you need is inside.
Everything waits, in this very moment, for you.
My brother recommended I might like this website. He was entirely right.
This post truly made my day. You can not imagine just how much time I had spent for this info!
Thanks!
I love this. I threw myself a cookie party today because I’ve been struggling with winter blues for months and today I woke up to a blizzard when yesterday was so sunny and warm I actually took a walk in a tee shirt and jeans. I couldn’t handle sitting on the couch looking out the window at the bare tree branches in the snow. I made cookies instead. I’m so glad I found this blog. I know that I have problems with sugar, but every time I try to back off, I slip up and get out the Kitchen Aid.
I’m going to try again and use some of the tools you describe. Thank you!
Hi Karly,
Thank you so much. You’ve given me a lot of courage. Thank you so much.
What a beautifully written encouragement. I’ve struggled with sugar addiction and binge eating for years. I’ve try so many things and read so many books. I’ve even heard these words before but not as compassionately. Thank you. I’ve stumbled across this website and I’m so grateful – it was no mistake, thank you Lord. Also, I can feel good about myself when I’m called overly sensitive. Yes, I am, and I’m glad I feel so intensely both the good and bad in my life. Thank you again for your insightful article. I can handle the difficult times in my life without turning to food.
Hi Deemarie,
I feel so happy that you found us and that this article ministered to you in body, mind and spirit. I love that your prayer brought you here. I’ve had many of those, “Help me!” prayers too.
You may like this post where I explain this process of using kindness to soften sugar cravings –
http://www.firstourselves.org/2011/stop-sugar-cravings-kindness/
In love and support, Karly
Hi Karly
Thankyou for what you said about emotional eating being based in kindness – I have always thought that deep down I must really hate myself, to binge the way that I do all the time!! Your whole story is so achingly familiar to me – I’m just starting out on my quest to try to get more comfortable with my emotions, and your articulate and insightful words are an inspiration, and a comfort. Thank you so much. Renae
Dear Renae,
I felt the same way and I understand. It is so easy to judge ourselves for our messy coping methods and to even identify with them – to cloud over the other aspects of ourselves so all we see is the bingeing. Then we feel terrible about ourselves, which only feeds more bingeing!
You may like these posts where I talk about this more:
http://www.firstourselves.org/2011/trusting-your-goodness/
http://www.firstourselves.org/2011/healing-binge/
One of my all time favorite quotes is from Sri Nisargadatta. He says our flight from pain and going after pleasure is a “sign of the love we bear for ourselves.” Isn’t that beautiful? It’s based in self protection. It’s based in love.
It’s hard to be a human being. It takes so much kindness. When I act in ways that are unhelpful – like bingeing – it’s a cry for love. The proper response isn’t judgment, but compassion, forgiveness and love.
I know it sounds counterintuitive, but it’s what allows for the bingeing to soften and cease. In my experience, kindness is the doorway to healing.
I’m so glad you’re here. May you continue to be comforted on your journey. May you know you are not alone. May you feel held by something sacred, precious and kind.
XOXO, Karly
I admire the courage in your approach, Karly. I read a list I made while reading The Beck Diet. “Advantages to Not Giving In To Cravings”. A few of the reasons: “The struggle will be over. I will no longer feel stuck. This will extend to other areas of my life.”
Well said, Sue! Letting go of struggle is huge. It always boggles me how I like to hold onto my struggles…it can be such a process to actually let them go.
Wishing you much peace on your journey.
XOXO
Oh Karly, I just want to give you a great big hug right now! You are so brave to do what you have done – the move AND the crying/napping. And thank you for sharing this – it helps to see it in action. I feel like if you can do it, then it gives me the strength to try too! xoxoxo
Jill,
I’m so glad this was helpful. That was my hope – that by sharing what self compassion looks like “in the trenches” for me that others could find support, encouragement and a map for how to do it themselves.
I’m finding that we all have the strength to do this – it’s nothing special about me personally. I get caught and afraid, and think I have no courage and that I can’t do it and that it’s too hard … and then I look inside and I can. It is not me doing it, it is grace – the loving presence that flows through us all.
It blows me away. Just boggles me really! A gift for us all. I just have to remember to open it, lol.
XOXO, Karly
Oh Karly, I love you so much. What a beautiful post. I’m sending you incredible waves of blessings and ease now that you are getting settled in Austin. Once again, I’m so happy for you, your family, and your choice to change locations. I really think it will be so amazing for you overall!!! However, I know that the time to get comfortable in a new big city can be long (or longer than we want). So whenever you need a hand we are all here. After all, look at how much this one post has inspired the rest of us! It’s morning now, but I’m already feeling that today and the next couple days could be really difficult for me in my own detox process. Hearing your experience was a wonderful reminder and model for me to follow. I may need to shut the door a few times, but to be able to do that is a brave and incredible thing in itself. Much love.
Kelley,
I’m weeping. (Jill, you made me weep, too.) As someone who boldly leaps into the unknown – that’s you, Kelley! – you gave me the courage to do it in my own life. Thank you for being my teacher and for inspiring me. I’ve thought of you often through this chaotic time!
I’m thinking of you and hoping that your own transitions may be easy to bear. I hope that your courage and heart and love and kindness continues to grow, to expand, to bloom into love. May you feel held in your tears.
I love you, too! Karly
Wow, how timely of you. I have embarked on a clean-eating 21-day menu and have from day one been struggling with the emotional aspects that were coming out of me. Tears and anger, tears and anger. For “no reason” I have wanted to cry or yell or punch or whatever. Each time my mind has turned to food and knowing I couldn’t have what I “wanted” (I really made a commitment to stick to this eating plan for three weeks), it made the emotions worse. It was like constant PMS! I know I use food to self-soothe, but I guess I was unaware of how much I used it and for what reasons… to stuff the emotion back so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I haven’t allowed myself, still, the release you gave yourself, but I see the benefits and will work on some alone time to perhaps work through it some more. Without the food buffer. I’m on day 13 of this 21 day plan. Maybe by the end of it I’ll be able to break the self-medicating with food “habit”…
Kai,
I feel so proud of your 21 days of clean eating. How wonderful for you to go after something important to you, even though it’s difficult.
Your experience resonated with mine – intense, powerful feelings came up when I stopped pushing them away with food. It’s uncomfortable, isn’t it? I love that I was able to normalize this for you and help you realize you’re not alone.
One of the things I’ve learned about discomfort is that it doesn’t necessarily mean anything’s wrong. This goes against everything I feel – if it hurts I want to make it go away! – and yet I’ve had to practice leaning into discomfort. When I lean into it and don’t label it as “wrong” or “bad,” I’m more tolerant, patience, and able to sit with it. This is a heck of a lot easier said than done
I sincerely hope that the discomfort gives way to greater ease for you. I feel so proud of you and am sending you en-courage-ment for this last week. You can do this, Kai. I’m cheering you on!
XOXO, Karly
totally and completely true!!! huge thank yous!!!
So glad we have each other, Jen! XOXO
Beautifully put Karly! I’m full of admiration. Staying with the ‘ouches’ and honouring our feelings can really help us tune into what we really need – self-compassion, rather than another sugar/food fix. Very inspiring…!
‘m so glad this resonated with you, Niki. It’s a practice for me, for sure…one I am actually learning to embrace. Everytime I practice self compassion, something unshakable, wise and very, very kind grows inside me…something that feels like home. I want this for every being.
XOXO
Karly, thanx for a great post. It’s so true. I’m on my own journey of self discovery and part of that is being able to sit and actually experience emotions. It’s so hard. Thanx for giving me an inspiration hit for the afternoon.
Hi Samantha,
Yes, it is hard to sit with emotions – you are so brave to do this! One of the reasons I wrote this post was to say, “This is hard for me,” so that we all realize we’re in it together. I wanted to dispel the myth that many of us think (At least I’ve thought it to be true!) that “I’m the only one who finds this uncomfortable and difficult.” Nope. I think it’s part of being human.
It’s not easy for any of us…And…we can do it.
I am so proud of you and am cheering you on! I love that you’re joining us here.
XOXO Karly